


Not just a Janitor

by Valdyr



Series: Not Just... [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Sam, Bottom Sam, Canonical Character Death, Episode: s02e15 Tall Tales, Light BDSM, M/M, Top Gabriel, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-19 16:25:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9450212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valdyr/pseuds/Valdyr
Summary: "Got more ass than a toilet seat."Dean laughed through his too full mouth and Sam desperately tried not to blush. He shouldn't think about any asses now. Not with... Wait. Had the janitor just winked at him? He wouldn't. Except he was definitely looking Sam up and down now, biting his bottom lip. Nope, bad idea. Dean was right next to him. And the smaller man was not even handsome. In the traditional sense of the word. Except that there were entire worlds unfolding behind his gold-touched eyes and they seemed to speak directly to him, seductively whispering:'I could show you such wonders, if you got the balls for it. So? Wanna play?'





	

The case was easy enough. Probably just a haunting. But it was not a ghost that was haunting Sam as they investigated the scene of the supposed suicide. That would be the eyes of the janitor who showed them around. They kept finding their way back to him and every time they did, he felt the heat in them. The janitor - They hadn't even asked for his name, how could they not? - cooperated easily, without any stupid questions or stonewalling, and he seemed to be perpetually amused.

It was a welcome difference from the grim faces of most other people who had recently come into contact with corpses. And somehow his positive attitude lightened their mood, too. It had everyone relaxed and open and maybe just a bit too much of that. Or maybe that was the environment. College did mean a lot more to Sam than learning. It was a place of experimentation, of leaving his father's rule behind and doing crazy things. It was a whole new adventure.

It was the place where a bit of inhibitions-quelling alcohol, the horniness of youth and a male roomie had gotten him to realize more about himself than Dean could know. And right now, now that he had gone through so much time with just a blood-relative for company, the reminder of that and the smiling stranger with a twinkle in his eyes had a very uncomfortable effect on him. Well, it was only really uncomfortable because his brother was still there.

Oh, what was he thinking? There was way more wrong with it. They were also at the scene of a haunting where someone died just recently and the janitor made not so much as a blip on his gaydar. And hitting on a straight guy? Nope. He banished the thought from his mind at once and concentrated on just being friendly. And he almost managed. But then the conversation took that turn...

"Got more ass than a toilet seat."

Dean laughed through his too full mouth and Sam desperately tried not to blush. He shouldn't think about any asses now. Not with... Wait. Had the janitor just winked at him? He wouldn't. Except he was definitely looking Sam up and down now, biting his bottom lip. Nope, bad idea. Dean was right next to him. And the smaller man was not even handsome. In the traditional sense of the word. Except that there were entire worlds unfolding behind his gold-touched eyes and they seemed to speak directly to him, seductively whispering:

'I could show you such wonders, if you got the balls for it. So? Wanna play?'

That definitely haunted him like no ghost ever could. But he had to go. Because of his brother and the job. They were here on a mission. There were people to be saved. He concentrated on that as hard as he could and almost managed to ban the stranger from his mind. But Dean just had to be Dean and when his tried to do his job and research about the haunting, he was welcomed by a porn site. Busty Asian Beauties. Yikes.

It was not like they were ugly per se, but he was in the mood for guy, these particular examples of women were doing outright vulgar things and he was all too aware that his own brother had jerked off to these images. Please God, he thought, don't let my brother have sprinkled on my laptop! He might have to dunk it in medical grade disinfectant.

But that kept his thoughts focused at least. And he needed them all when they heard about the second 'strange event' on the campus. An alien abduction? Seriously? And _seriously_?! Dean was totally plastered all over again and hanging from some chick before the evening was even halfway through.

Well, Sam would not drag the idiot's ass back to the hotel this time. One Starla was enough for one job. He should just go back on his own. But what would he do then? His laptop wasn't working and he didn't really have anything else useful or fun to do. He would just brood angrily until he'd get too tired for his anger and fall asleep. Then Dean would come crashing back and he would be awake and angry all over again.

Maybe he should just find someone for himself...

He had not completed half a survey of the room when his mind jumped back to a certain janitor and the thought alone made him blush bright red. Well, he could interview him again to see if they missed anything earlier, right?

Okay, he knew what a lame excuse that was. So sue him. But it was definitely better than going back to the hotel room he shared with his brother alone. And thus he found himself going back to the janitor. At the very least he could ask for his name this time around.

 

He used the pretense of having lost his keys somewhere and checking everywhere he'd been to over the course of the day. And he noticed at once that the janitor didn't buy it for a single second. But he still let him in with an impish grin. Not into the dead guy's flat, though. Into his own, which was surprisingly nice for a janitor's wage.

For a moment he considered mentioning that this was not where he had been to earlier, but as if he had read his thoughts, the janitor beat him to a comment:

"Don't you wanna get down on yer hands'n'knees to search the floor for where they dropped?"

He was certain that he had never blushed so hard in his entire life and his voice was almost croaky from fighting through the lump in his throught:

"This is th wrong flat."

"Well, you'll have the same chance finding it here and I'd like the view, so no, it's the perfect flat for all kneeling or bending down. Don't you think?"

"Um..."

"Oh, come on, you and I both know why you came here and it has nothing to do with keys. Except, of course, if you meant that you were looking for a key to stick into your keyhole."

The red of Sam's cheeks got brighter and the grin on the janitor's face wider. But that was not even due to the ease with which he played with Sam. It was due to the noticable twitch in Sam's pants. He didn't get it. He should be repulsed. He usually hated such carnal bluntness. He loved... well, love.

And he janitor was just messing with him, but it still worked. And a part of him was disgusted with himself for it. Was he such a ho? Falling for cheap jokes and innuendos like all those faceless bedwarmers of his brother?

But then he was shocked and almost pulled a hidden knife, when there was suddeny a hand in his face, cupping his cheek and warming him like a magical balm. And the sincerity and caring in those soulful eyes hit him in the heart.

"Ye still with me, kid?"

The grin was gone, only a tiny little smile of hope and support remaining. But as small as it might be, it banished all thoughts of cheapness.

"I'm alright."

"Good, 'cause I might be willing to lend you a shoulder to cry on if you're not, but I'd much rather give you something else if I may. Trust me, it's fun."

"I know it's fun, I'm not a virgin."

"Maybe not that, but you don't know _me_ , eye candy. But if you're willing, though, I'll show you. Right. About. Now."

He was playful, but with mock authority crowning it and a fundament of good heart. Sam needed only to look at him, look into his eyes, and sense the strength and mercifulness within. He somehow just knew that this man would fight for him. It was strange and one tiny and far out part of him was scared of the janitor's aura, suspecting something not human about him and fearing him for it.

However, that part faded in the light of his soul as it glowed in response to the magnificent man in front of him. He basically melted into other's surprisingly strong arms and kissed him with a sudden need for more of that heavenly feeling of warmth and protection.

But then there was a hand on his chest and the janitor held him back. He looked down in confusion and found the grin back in place:

"Naughty boy. Do I need to muzzle you if you won't ask permission before you take from me?"

That really shouldn't be hot. But the intrigue and the allure had returned to cover the sincerity. It wasn't gone and if he ever doubted he would remember that it was always there. But this was not about feelings. God, they had only just met! And he would be gone again soon. This was about fun. If he put his heart in it, he knew it would break in time. So he couldn't. He'd just soothe his soul and sate his desires to balance the input of the world. He was here to play an adults' game he'd been missing for a long long time.

So he responded biting his lip and putting on a face of obviously pretend innocence.

"I didn't know I had to ask. You didn't say so."

"Oh, so you're blaming me for your sins now? That's some real bad boy behavior. You better beg for forgiveness or I might have to punish you."

"Forgive me."

"Doesn't sound like proper begging to me, boy."

"It wasn't. That was an order. I don't submit to midgets."

He didn't mean that one. The other was physically smaller, but he had the greater presence when he wanted to. He just said it to challenge the janitor and get to the action. And he chose the right way for that. Those deep eyes darkened with lust. The game was on.

The smaller sighed and caressed his cheek as if in sadness, but letting on that it was an act and Sam just knew that something was about to happen. His heart raced and his dick twitched and suddenly the hand was in his hair with a firm grip and his him down to eye level.

It hurt, but just right, and the discomfort at his bent position worked perfectly with the hissed reprimand just before his mouth was outright plundered. Somewhere in the back of his head he was aware that they were moving now, but he didn't really notice much beside the heat and the wetness and the teeth all working his lips and tongue.

He did notice, though, when he was abruptly shoved back. His initial reaction was to whine at the loss and grab at the other, but then his legs hit something and he stumbled only to fall on a huge bed. Wow, the janitors here had get paid better than some teachers. But his thoughts did not linger. Not when he had the other guy sitting on his legs to fixate him as he ripped the hunter's jacket off, shirt open and ready for disposal only a moment later.

And he wanted to bare the other, too. He wanted to touch. But something was wrong with his shirt. The janitor had been pulling it over his head and up his arms, but it wouldn't get off. He could still feel it around his wrists. And then the janitor sat back with a big grin.

"I know what you want, but you won't get it. You'll get only what I deem you worthy of."

Bastard! Now he understood why his shirt was stuck and he couldn't pull his arms down anymore. The janitor had tied his wrists to the headboard with his own shirt. Now he wouldn't be able to touch! He curced, but then there was a finger on his lips.

"Watch yer tongue, bad boy, or I might have to get a ball gag for you."

He wanted to stick his tongue out in rebellion, but the finger was in the way. Or not in the way... He nudged it with the tip of his tongue, then opened his mouth a bit in invitation. And the janitor took it at once, pushing in and having his finger sucked as he would his cock, while his other hand worked open Sam's pants.

That was not exactly easy now. Not with Sam bucking up into the hand. But he was so hard already! The janitor chuckled and palmed him for a bit, while he had two more finger sucked, getting them nice and wet. Then he could finally pull the last garments down and take his place between Sam's bare thighs.

At last the fingers left Sam's mouth and one instantly found another entrance. He knew that saliva was not a great lubricant and they shouldn have gotten another had they had the time, but there was nothing to be done about it now. He couldn't wait any longer.

And he didn't have to. Huh, strange but nice. The spit was perfectly enough, it appeared to him who he knew nothing of the other's abilities. Because there was essentially no burn and he opened to to each new finger quickly. But the second he was open enough to avoid harm, the janitor stopped. He wanted to feel the tightness and he knew that Sam wanted to feel the girth. They both needed the friction now.

And without Sam noticing just how he had slicked his cock, he rammed it in all the way in one go, eliciting a howl of delight from the hunter. He gave him a moment, then grabbed him with his warm, slick hand and set a rapid rhythm with both. The bed rocked against the wall from it, but neither really cared.

Well, he did chuckle that he might have to get a gag after all, if Sam insisted on waking the dead. But he didn't mind. And going by his open-mouthed laugh, Sam knew that. In fact he beamed from joy. Only metaphorically speaking, thankfully. Though he had to put a tad bit of effort into not making that some literal beaming in the presence of the hunter. Not that Sam would have seen in his current state...

He mouth might have been open for breathing, but his eyes were closed and his wet hair covered most of them, too. He was sweating quite profoundly, human that he was. But the other didn't mind that, either. It was alive, it was intense, and it was all those human hormons openly on his skin. In fact he bent down just to lick the first salty slick of man off his chiseled chest, that almost vibrated from his quick thrust.

Or from the human's trembling. Yeah, he was a bit much for one of apparently such short stature. But Sam was enjoying himself and so was he. So what of it? At last the trembling escalated and the hunter bucked and came with an outcry, convulsing around him and dragging him over the edge, too.

Unlike Sammy, though, he didn't black out. No, he chuckled about that. Poor boy. Glistening wet and totally out of it. Sweet dreams, he whispered to him and took care of his little boy, patting him dry of any bodily fluids, freeing him from his shirt and undressing him completely to make him more comfortable in his sleep.

He was reading the news with the radio playing by the time Sam finally woke up and first of all looked at him quizzically:

"Dude, Asia?"

"What? I love that song: _A look from you and I would fall from Grace..._ Can't argue with that, can you?"

"Okaay. Uhm..."

"Yup?"

"...I never caught your name."

And he really had to think about that. No one ever asked the janitor for his name. But Sam just had. What should he say? What could he say?

"Gabe is fine. You?"

"Sam."

"Alright, Sam, what would you like to do now?"

"Um..."

"Go back home, cuddle in bed till we both fall asleep or straight to another round?"

Wow, the janitor - Gabe - with his easy grin knew how to de-awkward a situation. He was already playful again. But Sam was way too exhausted for another round and the clock warned him to return to Dean before his brother broke through the door ready to kill the monster that had kidnapped him.

"Sorry, but I don't really have the time..."

"No need to be sorry, Sam. Just don't let your shyness keep you from me, if you get the chance to return."

"I'm not really shy."

"You were when you came here and you are now."

He was. Why? It might have something to do with the fact that Gabe was just different. That thought lingered in his mind long after he had dressed and gone.

 

Yet he needed only wait to be distracted from it again. This time by an alligator in the sewer. Oh and Dean. Yeah, Dean big time. Fucking asshole. In the end, they needed Bobby. Both for technical advice and as a buffer. They recounted the tale and Bobby found the solution easily enough. It seemed perfect, but then...

"And who do we know who's been at ground zero this whole time?"

Dean gave him that meaningful look, but it just couldn't be.

"The janitor?!"

And everything went sour from there. He had to go along with the plan. It was not like he could just tell him that he'd let what now appeared as the murdering monster fuck him the other night. But it couldn't be Gabe. And it would show before they stabbed him.

Except it didn't. Because 'Gabe' was the trickster as he proved easily enough when trying to bribe Dean into letting him go. A great move that no other monster had ever made and that a big part of Sam wanted to accept. He was so turn. He should be fully on Dean and Bobby's side, he knew. Gabe was a murdering monster. He really was. But that was not what he had felt the other night. And that left him torn.

But the the fighting began and he was under attack. By one guy with a chainsaw, nothing for a demigod capable of conjuring entire UFOs, but it would keep him occupied. Part of him wanted to see Gabe's mercy and caring in that act, but the hunter in him saw it as a powerful monster's hubris in the face of humans.

Whichever, though, he had to fight to stay alive and keep his friend and brother alive, too. And it got so close. So bloody close! And when bad went to worse and his brother was about to die before his eyes, Sam acted on instinct and tossed him the stake.

He knew in that moment that the look in Gabe's eyes would haunt him forever. His creations died and the trickster collapsed. He was dead. Gabe was dead. Bobby had to drag him out under Dean's questioning gaze, but they didn't talk about it and Sam did not allow his tears to fall. But even after knowing him only for so short a time, he already felt so much for the creature. And all the more guilty for it.

Had he fallen for a monster? What kind of hunter was he? What kind of human...? He mourned in silence and in shame. And safely after Dean had started snoring, he cried himself to sleep, missing that heavenly warmth and devilish mirth.

His night was plagued by nightmares. Jess dying. Dean almost. Then their father. And Gabe. He wanted to scream and called his name in his dreams, praying for mercy, thinking only of that loving monster. And suddenly everything changed. Warmth and protection flooded his heart and Gabriel did not die in that dream. Instead, he and Sam were abruptly transported back to his flat and he took the crying hunter into his embrace.

"Hey, it's alright. I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You're dead. I'm just dreaming."

"Do I look dead to you?"

"No, but this is not the real you. This is just a figment of my imagination."

"That's what you say. I say I'm real. And I will always be there. Just call me in your dreams."

He could feel that Sam did not really believe it, but maybe that was for the best. If Sam knew of his survival, the hunter in him might be compelled to act. Maybe it was better like this. So he pulled Sam really close and kissed him sweetly with a reassuring smile, making him not care if it was a dream or reality.

And every night now Sam called him, prayed really, and he came to banish all nightmares and soothe him and kiss him and sometimes sleep with him in their minds. This way they could be together.


End file.
